


Time To Wait Too Long

by freakshow (oatmealcrisp), oatmealcrisp



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: CUS JACK IS PINING GETTIT, Exploding trees, Eye Gouging, Eye Trauma, Impalement, M/M, Violence, and jamie is a GOOD KID, endgame north/jack, im really just indulging myself here tbh, jack into that gilf, north into that twink, pitch gets zapped, post-battle romance, puns and music lyrics wittily inserted, they get together and smooch in bunny's warren oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 03:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14440503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oatmealcrisp/pseuds/freakshow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oatmealcrisp/pseuds/oatmealcrisp
Summary: Jack has been enamoured of North since before they officially met, enthralled by this mountain of a man who works so hard to make children happy, who looks at everything with wonder in his eyes, who's larger than life and so ruggedly handsome. He buries that love deeply though, certain nothing will come of it, because nobody cares about little Jack Frost.Then Pitch attacks and all of that changes.





	Time To Wait Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just me plainly indulging myself cus North is hot and there's just....not enough North/Jack around? This has been in the works for a while, and it's not my greatest work to date, there's probs a bunch of plot holes, but it was fun to write and that's what counts! Written mostly on my phone tbh haha, ENJOY!

Jack Frost is 50 years old when he finds the massive building carved part way into a mountain, surrounded by what appear to be patrolling yeti. It is the North Pole, snowy and sun-beaten, and Jack has never been so far from home.  
He lights up with delight, tries to speak to the yeti and they can SEE him, can RESPOND to him...enough to ward him away with fists the size of pumpkins. Jack is not one to give up easily, though, and he's mischievous, determined, and unspeakably lonely. This is the most interaction he’s had since he woke up from his icy pond, since the moon told Jack his name and left him all alone, and it's exciting, it's fun, it feels like a brand new toy and he's not about to leave it alone.

Why would he? That would just be silly.

It turns into a game of espionage immediately. The goal? Bother the yeti as much as possible by doing what they explicitly do not want him to do: Break in.

He catches glimpse of small red hats atop squashed faces when he manages to make it in through an unguarded window, and introduces himself to what appears to be a very small and ecstatic elf. The little guy bounces and claps his hands, and Jack asks if he’d like to play a game mere moments before he’s caught by the cape and hauled right back out the way he came by the seat of his pants. Jack laughs merrily as the shutter is slammed in his face and tries not to let it sting.

He’s made an ally though - allies, in fact. The little elves are a bit of a hivemind and together they plan offensives against the no-nonsense seeming yeti. Jack knows though, somehow, that they’re enjoying themselves just as much as he and the little elves. In fact, it’d be safe to say that he’s having the time of his life even if the bulk of his communications are made of frost drawings, diagrams, instead of person to person. Sans getting manhandled by boorish hairy giants, anyway.

It’s around two weeks into his mission to pester the yeti ( and maybe gain access to the apparent playground that is the building) when Jack sees Him. 

Jack is peering in through a window into the dazzling and brightly lit workshop of what he has deduced by now can only belong to the Santa Claus, whom the wind has carried him rumors about. There are toys and there is food and there are lights and there is chaos and it’s all so tantalizingly close. Thus far, the much vaunted spirit of gift giving hasn’t made any appearances and Jack is absolutely curious as a cat about the man. It’s hard to pick out specifics in all the clutter and visual noise but Jack’s eyes still catch an apparent fuss break out toward the far side of the room.

Jack feels himself gasp softly, leaning deeper into the window as his eyes clap upon what can only be the great North St. Nick.

Santa Claus is a mountain of a man, dressed in scarlet and he gestures widely with arms that must be thicker than Jack’s waist and hands the approximate size of dinner plates. From so far away, Jack can barely make out the deep blue of the man’s eyes, which close in what must be a boisterous laugh as he claps a yeti barely larger than him on the shoulder, making the fellow stumble.  
Jack licks his lips, feeling strange, and thinks that face is one made for smiling and happiness.

The spirit is only 50 years old, and he doesn’t know if he truly understands the pulsing, thready feeling that whisps through his veins. He remains glued to the window for the few seconds it takes for his frost to turn Santa Claus, and everything else therein, into a waxy mirage.

Jack drifts slowly away then and turns to fly home, unsure what to make of himself. He finds himself back at the workshop after a brief sleep at his lake, searching obsessively through windows. He wants to meet this man, not just because he’s achingly alone and desperate for company but because of something much more primal. He’s attracted, an insufferable moth to the glittering, glitzy flame of the North Pole and the man who lives there.

50 more years pass, and then a hundred, and then a hundred more and Jack never forgets. As he learns and grows, making long strides with his control over Fall and Winter both and absolutely no progress whatsoever in being seen, in being spoken to, in the things which truly matter, he never forgets.

Jack comes again and again to the North Pole. By then it’s a long acknowledged strategy game between he and the elves and the Yeti, who test their new security devices. Jack is glad to have yet more toys to play with, more time to enjoy, but actual entry to the building remains barred. It grates at Jack, frustrates him deeply even as he laughs and plays but every shutter closed in his face is one which bruises.

It's only about the same as every other reception he's ever gotten. It's only a little more added to the shitpile heap that is Jack's life, but this.... this is a sliver which gets under his skin. Under the moonlight, Jack, who prefers doing to thinking, ponders the situation.

North St. Nick is much too busy for the likes of him, Jack concludes with resignation. A Guardian of children, a massive spirit in both power and reputation, a warlock of not insignificant means, the Santa Claus is on a whole other level than Jack can even dream of meeting. Jack admires the man’s dedication to children and his holiday almost as much as he hates it because he’s jealous of it. It, and North as well because people BELIEVE in Santa Claus. 

If he were to step in front of a child, the child would surely see him and Jack, who only ever gets walked through, could never hope to gain the attentions of this colossus spirit.

His attraction, deepened by too many years spent pining, will never be returned. He is invisible, as always. North, and his face made for smiling and his eyes that gleam, likely doesn't even know Jack Frost exists.

Almost 300 years on and Jack Frost, after all, is only ever an expression.

But then he's not, and if it weren't so joyful it would be the worst case scenario because now he's way too close and Jack Frost doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s in way, way too deep.

His thoughts are constantly circling around one source, turning into an obsession that burns in his gut like a never-ending coal fire. It’s stoked continuously, pushed and prodded by proximity. North's eyes are warmer up close and he puts off heat like a furnace. His mustache twitches pleasantly when he smiles and Jack discovers that North keeps his beard impeccably groomed, as it is a source of pride. North's eyebrows, great big fuzzy black caterpillars, dance and wiggle freely with each shift in expression. His great big gut, plush fat over the hard muscle of a weathered warrior, jiggles whenever North booms in laughter.

North is bigger than life and Jack is endlessly enamoured.

Jack thinks this shouldn't be. It's absolutely unexpected. He thinks that other spirits would be shocked, his new and ever expanding base of believers scandalized. He fears the source of his obsession will never reciprocate and, on especially dark nights, Jack imagines North's expression if his crush ever came out. 

Would it be shocked? 

How quickly would the man's sweet pink cheeks pale in horror? 

Would it be like Easter 2012, where North had turned away as though unable to bear the sight of him? Or would North look at him with the gentle dread of a friend, and try to let Jack down gently?

The ice spirit doesn’t know which is worse, but the thought of North discovering his feelings fills him with anxiety and shame.

Jack isn't invisible to everyone anymore, but it changes the impossibility of anything ever happening not one jot.

So Jack sucks it up and keeps it in tight, capped and bottled behind his breastbone, but when he’s alone, he can’t help but close his eyes, hold himself tight, and sway as he imagines.

Jack Frost is in way over his head.

He really doesn’t care.

\---------------------------------

Jamie is home for the summer, his first year of college started and gone in a flash. Jack, who had been sternly warned to stay away and not be a distraction, is eager to see his First Believer and hear all about the young human’s adventures. He hops roofs, swings around street lamps, flips over gaps with an agility that would make any free runner weep in envy. Playfully, Jack leaves behind fernlike frosts that melt quickly in the night time heat, showing off for no one but himself.

Burgess is small, a community of about thirty-thousand packed tight, and it’s not long before he’s approaching the Bennett house at the edge of the woods. Jack bounces off a car into the wind and touches down on a shingled roof, then quickly shimmies down the lattice onto the window ledge with a wide grin. The window is open and Jack pokes his head in, delighting in the car alarm that's announced his, frankly spectacular, entrance.

What once was the bedroom of an eight year old child has evolved into that of a young man. Crayon drawings have been replaced by hand-painted murals and extensive paints, an easel, brushes and markers and sketchbooks across almost every surface. A massive multi-screen computer system sits on a desk that’s made of dark wood instead of cheap board. The bed is even bigger, the bookshelf has matured in content, and Jack surveys the clothes and scattered plates decorating the floor with a wry fondness. In the blink of an eye, he thinks, his favourite kiddo has grown up.

“Jack!” The door has opened while Jack was busy being nostalgic, revealing a tall young man with messy toffee-brown hair. Jamie is looking delighted as he rushes to close the door, clumsily hipping it shut because his hands are full of chips and drink and a plate full of sandwich. Grown up, Jack thinks, but still the same sweet kid that helped the Guardians defeat the Boogeyman not too many years ago. Jamie carelessly deposits his snacks on the bed as he trips and bounds over.

Jack smiles widely and hops off the sill just in time to get scooped into a bearhug. He squawks then laughs, patting the 20 year old’s shoulders a little frantically as Jamie squeezes the second life out of him. His staff presses a bit painfully into his clavicle but Jack accepts the discomfort for the hug, it’s so worth it.

“Hey there, Jimmie-Jams, you’ve gotten very tall today!” 

Jamie looks pleased as he pulls back a little, and is smug in his reply. “And you have gotten very short.”

Jack huffs as he’s released, floating down to seat himself on the one corner of Jamie’s desk that isn’t occupied with doodles, garbage, plates...junk.

“Not short!” The frost spirit says with a smirk, levelling his finger at the brunet and mimicking a gunshot as he unloads an amazing pun. “I am fun-sized!”

He cants his head to the side with a superior air. “Obviously.”

“Booooo.” Is the unimpressed response at his fantasticness. Jamie sits in his desk chair and scoots over, the wheels squeaking merrily. “Yeah, I finished another growth spurt a couple months ago! The weather is amazing up here, by the by.”

Jack sits back, his smile turning a little wry as he internally mourns his own stunted growth, but he shakes it off quickly. “And I bet you’re just pleased as punch to finally be taller than Cupcake, hm?”

Mention of Jamie’s girlfriend has the young man smirking and sitting back preeningly, gesturing as if he's about to orate an impressive soliloquy when simultaneously, abruptly, they both pause.

A strange sensation has just flooded across Jack’s senses, and by the look on Jamie’s face he’d felt it too. Outside the wind moans a low warning that pricks the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck. Silently, the white haired man rises from the desk and floats over to the window.

“...Jack?” Jamie asks softly, a little breathily with nerves, as he stands and stays.

Jack’s brows furrow in response, the blue in his eyes turning brighter by the unexpected dark of night. What had been just twilight had gone black in the space of a few minutes.

His eyes searched, a pair of ice white twin stars in the gloam, then widened as the wind screeched and snapped the windows shut. Jack reared back, gasping in surprise before stiffening as the house started to shake.

Lights flickered and plates rattled, and Jack’s feet hit the ground as he retreated to Jamie’s side. Holding out an arm automatically in defense of his young friend, Jack shut his eyes and expanded his senses only to cringe in disgust as he hit a wall of grease and malice, flinching away.

“What is it?” Jamie asked, clutching Jack’s shoulder tightly as his eyes flickered about. 

The winter spirit’s eyes opened again, the grimace still staining his lips as he took his staff in a two handed grip and levelled it toward the shut window.

“Pitch.”

On cue, the lights died with a sizzling twang.

A breathless second later an explosion of shrieking nightmares crashed against the glass panes, rushing by with a cacophany of ripping sheet metal, screaming horses, dying women. Off balanced by the severe quaking, Jack fell back and threw out his hand to catch Jamie before the other could trip, jerking the larger man into his side. Hellfire eyes and white, gnashing teeth surged by too fast to count, the wave of polluted dreamsand tearing over the house. 

The window flexed, threatening to break under the onslaught.

Feeling more than hearing Jamie’s yell of surprise, Jack bared his teeth in a snarl and sent a pulse of energy down his staff, making it light up with all the ferocity of lightning in a winter sky. Blinded, Jack slammed shut his eyes and turned away from his own light into Jamie’s hair, even as he threw up his arm to hold his staff aloft. The nightmare’s screaming hit new unreal heights, making Jack’s bones clench, and right as he thought he couldn’t take it, couldn’t take the sound of it for a second longer, it stopped.

The lights blinked back on. When Jack reopened his eyes, the soft lavender and orange of a just set sun had come back to the skies, and the nightmares had gone.

“Well...that happened.” Jack muttered softly, clutching the broad body of his First Believer tight as together they sank completely to the floor. He looked down to meet Jamie’s eyes, round with alarm and, indeed, a bit of nervous fear.

The spirit firmed his jaw and reached with one hand into his shirt, lifting out a copper red pendant in the shape and detail of a full moon. Jack palmed it with ground teeth, and reached.

After the chaos of 2012, the Guardians decided they needed an alert system that was more convenient than an aurora that could only be accessed, or seen, from certain locations. If Jack had only known what was happening with the eggs, or if the others had been aware that he’d been caught in one of Pitch’s traps (and hadn’t that been fun, to realize an entire night and half a day had vanished in the blink of an eye), the devastation of Easter wouldn’t have been nearly as absolute as it had been.

Brookite was an interdimensional communications stone, amplified further by quartz matrixes that it naturally grew upon, and so could reach easily through the ethers to carry messages in real time. The amulet lit up through his tight fingers as it relayed a message of frank alarm.  
The stone’s glow ebbed and stopped once Jack’s message had made it through, and then warmed progressively as the other four Guardians received the message and acknowledged it. Jack tucked the pendant back into his shit and turned to give Jamie a warm smile, standing.

“Sorry Jams, looks like we’re gonna have to catch up another time. I got work to do.”

Jamie blinked slowly as he stood as well, forcefully, then gave his head a light shake and nodded. Abruptly he reached out, capturing Jack’s shoulders and Jack realized belatedly just how much bigger Jamie was than him.

Almost like-

Not the time, Frost.

“You be careful, okay?” There was a tone of something in Jamie’s voice, a sense of intuition that turned a typical phrase between friends, brothers, into a grave warning.

Jack felt himself begin to worry, but smiled all the same and reached up to ruffle the young man’s hair. “Just who do you think I am, Jamie?”

He turned and leapt gingerly for the window sill, setting upon it lightly and throwing the brunet a wink. “I’m Never careful.”

Throwing open the windows, Jack hopped out into the grip of the wind and turned, shutting the panes gingerly.

His hand came away feeling as though it’d just been dipped in oil, nightmare residue coating the outside of the glass and Jack concealed a shudder, clutching his fist tight to his chest and turning to fly at speed.

It wouldn’t take the others long at all to arrive, now wasn’t the time to dawdle.

Jack landed lightly on the never-melting ice of his lake toe first, twisting to survey as he slowly dropped onto the pad of his foot. It was just seconds before he saw a hole open in the ground, a portal sucking open in front of a nearby tree, and watched as Bunny and North stepped through respectively. Jack lifted a hand in greeting and gave the pair a wan smile that did nothing to say just how spooked he actually was from the brief nightmare attack and Jamie’s subsequent warning.

“What’s the matter, Jackie?” Bunny asked, nose twitching and his eyes shifting about. His brows were pressing down in seconds, hand going for a boomerang that Jack knew was sharper than most blades.

North looked about as well, his typically jovial expression giving way to something stern and grim. “Da, I feel it. Was good of you to call, Jack, has been long time since Pitch leaves magic like this.”

The ice sprite nodded and walked over to the two men. “I was visiting Jamie and a swarm of nightmares attacked. They actually shook the house.” Jack explained, looking down at the hand he’d used to shut Jamie’s window. “The outside still had a nasty residue when I left. This was minutes ago, at most.”

His palm didn’t look out of the ordinary but the slick sensation had dried to cobwebs, leaving Jack feeling as though he desperately wanted a shower. He shook out his fingers with a hard breath and dropped his hand, looking at the pair in askance.  
.  
“How could he have gotten this powerful without us realizing it?” Jack asked.

A faint buzzing noise, and a soft golden glow basked the area reassuringly. Jack looked up and gave Sandy and Tooth a smile and nod in greeting.

It was still hard to trust that people would come when he called after so many years alone. Having everyone here around him in a loose and perhaps somewhat protective circle made something tight in Jack’s gut loosen with a feeling like relief. Still, the situation was not a good one, the reality of it reflected in the frowns twisting Sandy and Tooth’s faces.

Tooth ruffled her tail feathers lightly, giving the clearing a leery look.

“That’s a good question, Jack.” The fairy queen spoke, fingers twitching toward the sabers strapped to her hips that she never left without now, and Jack belatedly recalled how Tooth had punched Pitch hard enough to knock out one of the Boogeyman’s teeth the last time they’d met. 

“When we find him, we can ask.”

Sandy nodded in agreement, symbols flickering over his head.

“The feel of him’s all over, it’s gonna be impossible trackin’im in this.” Bunny translated through a scowl, his Australian brogue thick.

The rabbit sighed and dragged a hand over his muzzle, looking frustrated, then gestured sharply with a boomerang. “I suggest we split up. Better chances o’findin ‘im than if we were to look as a single unit.”

Oh no, that was a bad, BAD idea. One day soon, Jack swore he was going to plant his friends in front of a television and make them watch Cabin in the Woods.

“You haven’t watched too many horror movies have ya, Roo?” Jack gave his head a shake. “It also divides us and makes us easier to take down, we’re stronger together.”

Jamie’s warning was curdling in Jack’s memory at the very suggestion. He wanted everyone together right where he could see them, not split up like the Scooby Gang and picked off. Especially after the last time, Jack grimaced as he looked at Sandy.

Tooth hugged herself about her waist, expression a play of irritated indecision, and the little golden man next to her drooped. 

It was North who set a heavy hand upon Jack’s shoulder, easily dwarfing it.

“Is good point, Jack.” North smiled easily, his eyes, a darker blue than Jack’s, shining with warmth and reassurance. “But things will be just fine, Da?”

The giant of a man winked. Jack’s heart did a weird little shimmy in his chest. “Just have to believe!”

Jack swallowed and smiled tremulously at North through his dread. Hard to say no to that.

“Well...Alright, Big Guy. If you insist.”

“Right.” Bunny gestured at them to close ranks. “Huddle time.”

A moment’s worth more of talking, hedging out a quick plan and they were off, Sandy and Bunny taking the town, Tooth guarding the skies with her twin sabers while North and Jack were left to the forest, as Jack knew it best.

Sweeping aside flash frozen bramble with his staff, Jack fought off a grimace. He hated being on foot, confined to the ground. The branches over his head made a tempting offer, higher perches for better survey, but he stubbornly stuck to North’s side like a burr. Wasn’t as though the big man could fly without his sleigh after all, and Jack was still very much Not Cool with this plan of action.

Point to Pitch, the winter spirit mentally grumbled, because Jack was actually becoming more and more unnerved. A lingering residual effect, maybe. Those nightmares had very practically been dripping fear.

Jack gave a mental call to the wind but she was quiet, brushing through the leaves gingerly and whispering softly into his mind. Nothing she could sense. Just all encompassing creepiness.

“You don’t think he’s gone into hiding already, do you?” Jack muttered softly to North as they stepped onto a path. “Like the last time? Rile us up then make us wait?”

“Nyet, is doubtful. Too much the showpony to make repeat performance.” North’s mustache twitched, deep blue eyes sourcing out any out of place shadow, any unnatural movement. 

Jack smirked softly. He felt better about this, with the giant Cossack at his side. North was huge, weathered muscle and battle ability under a guise of cookie obsession and a soft stomach. Jack would rather have nobody else at his side in a battle, if it came down to it.

Because Pitch had a sense of timing about these things that was of course when he attacked.  
The oncoming night suddenly became full dark, bringing with it a suffocating pressure as though he’d been transported to the ocean floor. Jack groaned, unable to help but drop to one knee as his ears popped painfully.

The darkness was absolute. He couldn’t see, or hear, he could barely smell.

But that didn’t mean he was blind.

Jack spun to the side, narrowly ducking a swathe of shadow sand that glimmered razor sharp in the low light and jumped back to avoid the gnashing teeth of the howling Nightmare it became. North’s saber cleaved it neatly in two with an accompanying battle cry and Jack grinned tightly, a smile that was all teeth as he waved his staff to send twenty dozen glass sharp shards of ice at a beast of a Nightmare that was closing in on North’s six.

“Bout time! I was starting to get bored!” Jack boasted as he dipped back into the Wonder Guardian’s side, covering his back. Unable to see with his eyes, he stretched out his mind instead

The wash of polluted sand spread over the forest floor in a thin dust, quivered and jolted. Within seconds they were firmly surrounded by a solid ring of lightly spinning tar and Jack frowned as it gained speed. Jack could feel the sparks of ugly fear magic twisting the sand and pushing the atmosphere down harder upon their heads.

“I don't think so.” Jack muttered. “WIND!”

Behind him, North roared with breathless laughter and Jack felt his spirits lighten immediately. 

The wind cried out a challenge and plunged into the clearing, into the cyclone of oppressive nightmare sand, and Jack threw a hand into the gale to infuse it with his joy magic. The wind lit up with electric blue light and battered ferociously into the cyclone, forcing it to disperse with a sparkling crack that rumbled the ground beneath Jack's feet.

The deep-sea pressure subsided immediately and Jack nearly stumbled with the relief of it, his ears popping painfully. Again. Uhg.

Clapping. Slow, dull, sarcastic.

“Pitch.” North grunted, his heavy hand falling upon Jack's shoulder to steady him.

Jack felt his heart do a strange little wiggle even as he looked up, gaze falling upon the foe in question. Seated atop the largest of his Mares, Pitch spread his arms with a cocky little smile.

“Me.” The ash skinned man spoke lightly and Jack ignored him momentarily to take in their situation with mild concern.

They were surrounded again, but not simply by the traditional horse shaped nightmare. Instead it was a whole host of polluted sand creatures which surrounded them, all with eyes the simmering red of Centralia fire. The oily sheen of their furs and skins made Jack clench his fist. They practically oozed malevolence, all of them, and dripped greasy fright. Bear, tarantula, big cats, snakes, less...identifiable conglomerates of limbs and eyes and teeth, and massive were all of them. The objects of nightmares and night terrors towered over them, the smallest the size of sheds and the largest reaching into the branches.

Jack took a step back in spite of himself, deeper into the gentle warmth of St. Nick.

“That was a cute trick, Jack.” Pitch’s tone continued to bely the gravity of the situation. “Did you like mine?”

“How are you doing this, Pitch.” North asked, appearing entirely unintimidated as he levelled his saber at the ghoulish figure. “Last we saw you, you had been dragged into your cave by your own creatures.”

Pitch didn't seem to appreciate the reminder. His top lip curled into an expression of distaste, as though he'd just caught whiff of a rancid smell.

“Well,” The Boogeyman muttered. “Wouldn't you like to know.”

There was a feeling in the air, as if a pin were about to drop. Pitch’s eyes briefly regarded Jack, seemed to shutter, strangely, and Jack was reminded for a second of Antarctica.

The pin dropped.

Jack cried out, barely deflecting a massive rig of teeth and claws and knocking it back into it’s fellows. They tumbled like bowling pins but more of the beasts were on them instantly.

The fight was on. Pressing into North’s back, Jack roared and lit the clearing with a clap of frost lightning, dropping he didn’t know how many, making the nightmares puff into sizzling ice and powder. 

But they just kept on coming, pressing down on he and North in a tsunami from all sides. The clearing grew dark again. 

Jack was beginning to feel frightened, his own pops of frost lightning a constant strobe effect that was starting to make him dizzy. Constantly through the glimpses of light he could see gaping maws of oily teeth, wild hellfire red eyes and the constant howls and screams of the terrified and dying. Jack grit his teeth angrily at the wall of incessant noise. Were these the cries of the children the nightmares had come from?  
He ducked, weaved, deflected, doing his best to stick tight to North and cover the jolly giant. Nick’s saber sung overhead, his battle cries bellowing through the clearing. Jack speared the head of a dragon bearing down on the giant man, froze and shattered it with a twist of his crook. North smiled at him, making Jack swallow again, and with his sword stuck the belly of an eldritch inspired monster that Jack didn’t see coming. 

Jack grinned back and returned his focus to the brawl. His fists and feet landed just as many hits as his staff did, punching and kicking what felt like greasy sandpaper. His skin was quickly bruising, turning purple with blood as his flesh was scraped away more and more with each hit. A banshee shrieked suddenly into his face, disorienting him as she tore at him and when Jack wrenched away he dodged into the mouth of an abomination and the fist of a bear. He cracked his staff against the head of the former and twisted, flipped backwards to plant his heels in the bear’s eyes and shattering it’s head. The sound of cracking glass tainted with the squeal of an angry child tingled in the back of Jack’s head, driving him harder.

The entire time, Jack was distinctly aware of North’s proximity and the sizzling scent of the jolly man’s magic as North sprung spells down the steel of his swords. North may not have had an elemental affinity like Jack or Bunny did but he was a master warlock, crushing nightmare monsters in summoned stone, in animated roots, pushing them back with violet light that, when it hit the monsters, made them burn away in a sizzle of purple electricity while they screamed horrifically. Every one that North’s sword touched was cleaved in twain, disintegrated, sliced open, stabbed. 

Like Jack though, Santa too was getting his own share of the beating. There were tears in his fluffy jacket and his forehead held a number of gashes, leaking blood into North’s bright, preternaturally sparkling eyes.

Jack came down and ducked low, swinging out his staff through feet and legs and then throwing out another pulse of joy magic through his opposite hand, making for a temporary recoil as the hoarde direct in front of him groaned in pain. The sprite took quick advantage of the new space and cleared one side for a second with a wall of ice spears, ducked around to North’s front and doing the same there. North reached over his head and shouted a spell that made the clearing explode into light and brighten significantly. 

They were fighting back to back, flawlessly and in perfect teamwork. The realization made the spirit grin widely, a sizzle of electricity flushing through his blood and making the hairs on the back of his sweaty neck rise. It was pretty amazing.

Finally Jack could see the monster’s numbers were thinning. The sprite panted roughly as he straightened, pushed back into North’s back. The ground was just about pasted with frozen, glassy black sand - which he could actually see without his lightning now because the oppressive, pressuring darkness of the hoard had actually started to brighten. An atmospheric effect that came from the nightmare sand? 

Something to think about later, Jack thought as he dodged the shredding claws of a jaguar and whirled to slam the crook of his staff into the big cat’s head, ducking under the legs of a horse and twirling from North’s side for a brief second to rip the bottom of his staff along the animal’s midsection and making it shatter into furiously howling dust.  
Another swathe of lightning and it actually cleared a small area for once, no beasts rushing to fill the gap. Instead the nightmares held back, snarling and growling as they lurked and circled him and his fellow Guardian. Jack took the second of reprieve to catch his breath. 

Flush as they were, the sprite could feel North breathing heavily. North was hot through his jacket, like a steaming furnace. Jack licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed.

“Aw. You're beginning to look a bit tired.” Pitch still atop his steed smiled silkily, chuckling as he lifted his chin. “Have my toys begun to wear you out?”

Ah. Jack felt his lips twitch into a smirk, a sore one because now that they’d stopped even for a moment he could begin to feel his hurts. The results from where he hadn’t moved quick enough had drawn aches and blood all over him.

“Pitches, I don't think I've ever met someone who loves the sound of their own voice as much as you.” Jack breathed, and behind him North let out a soft chuckle.

They didn’t move though. They were, after all, still surrounded.

The hordes of nightmares paced, snarled and stamped the ground - all animalistic but burningly intelligent fury. Jack was no fool. They weren’t attacking because they’d been commanded not to.

Pitch’s flare for drama was insatiable after all.

The sprite rolled his eyes and boredly bared his teeth at the slimy spirit. Yuck.

“Will ask again, what are you up to, Pitch?” North rasped out, keeping one eye on the prowling predators and the other on the Boogeyman. “Do tell, what is plan for today?”

“Taking over the world, Pinky, obviously.” Jack muttered and together they shared another breathless chuckle.

The ash-skinned spirit sneered, teeth glimmering sharp. Jack felt the back of his neck prickle with premonition, and drew his staff up higher.

The reprieve was done.

“I bet if we hadn't split up we would have kicked Pitch’s butt to kingdom come by now,” Jack growled softly to North through the corner of his mouth.

North shrugged, looking down at him sheepishly. “Lesson learnt for other day, da?”

Jack snorted and grinned wryly. “Ah, da.”

“Your flirting is growing old,” The Boogeyman drew out, very near to a slow purr. The massive horse he sat upon cracked in two with a thunderous split and whipped out to cover the nearby ground in a fine blanket of ichorious sand while Pitch dropped unnervingly slow to the ground. “But you do have half the idea.”

Jack gasped as Pitch’s face was without warning in front of his own, wolf sharp teeth snapping at his nose. Just as unexpectedly he was whirled away, safely ensconced in the crook of North’s elbow as the white-haired man yelled, a saber snatching at the air that used to be the Bogeyman.

He had one breathless moment of wonder, clutched as heartbreakingly tight as he was to North’s chest, to be captivated by the feeling before the battle was on him again. Jack found his feet, feeling the hard packed dirt grind under his toes as he spun to evade a massive tarantula, of all the things, and frost it before it could get North.

Pitch, the sneaky bastard, had become a goddamn Whack-a-Mole. Popping in and out, up and down, bobbing through the shadows to further disorient and confuse, all the while cackling in joy. It was bloody annoying.

“Stand your ground and fight like a man, Pitch!” Jack snarled in displeasure as the Boogeyman evaded his frost yet again, whipping around to barely catch a monster's teeth on his staff. Jack cried out in pain as the fangs sunk in, froze it and shook it off. That hurt!

With Pitch in the fray the intensity of the fight picked up even more, and Jack hadn't figured that was possible. Confined to the ground as he was, and therefore cut off from his usual fighting style, by the airborn and larger monsters had him claustrophobic, half-bewildered and turned around. He didn't know when it had happened but North’s absence burned like fire, leaving Jack unnervingly exposed, only catching glimpses of the man’s red coat distantly. Hissing in dismay over the lack, Jack attempted to take to the air again only to find a bat as big as an SUV in his way.

“FUCK!” Jack yelped, round eyed.

He couldn’t scramble out of the way in time to dodge the wing when it clotheslined him. Jack woofed out a rough breath as he said hello to a nearby tree with his ribs.

“I'm getting real sick of this! Damnit!” Jack twisted off the tree and out of the way of a mare. Surrounded by the slick of nightmares he was unaware as he twisted into the puddle Pitch had left, too focused on dancing away from claws and teeth as he began to reach into his shirt for the pendant to summon the rest of the Guardians.

Jack looked up and stilled as he caught sight of a towering spike of sand, the pointed tip turned downward as though looking at him. His fingers paused on the amulet, entire body frozen.

“When did you get there….?”

It seemed to pulse and then it moved, thundering through the air with a mighty crack right for his face.

There was no time, even as it seemed to slow down to a crawl just like it had in his last mortal moments. Adrenaline meant he could see every bristling thorn, every inky, polluted granule in slow motion and Jack could only think to himself ‘This is gonna hurt’ as the writhing spear bared down on him.

And then-

Jack became unaware of everything except for the roiling mass of blistering red as it came through his eyeball like a shot and exploded straight out the back of his skull.

\----------------------------

North only barely heard his own howl of denial.

As suddenly as it had begun all the fighting had stopped, drawn to a halt by Pitch’s crow of victory. North grunted as the Boogeyman wrenched the blade of his scythe from his twin saber’s locked grip, the fright-eater overjoyed.

The Guardian of Wonder felt his heart shrivel and die as he took in the bloody scene with a sinking, terrible horror.

Jack was bowed backward in a still arch, carried there by the black thorny tentacle jettisoned right through his head. He hung there, barely on his toes like a horrific still frame, arms dangling as his hair was turned bloodier by the second.

It dripped, the blood, terribly adding to the puddle of grey matter, skull and yet more violet already sprayed across the ground underneath him. 

“Jack-” North croaked as he stumbled back, paralyzed.

“HaHAH,” Pitch mocked, reaching for and pulling the sand out of the Joy Guardian’s head with an expansive gesture. All at once the lance ripped back out Jack’s head the way it’d come with a grotesque slurp, leaving the body to crumple lifelessly to the forest floor. Something in his ruined eye socket still seemed to bubble. 

Pitch leered, ignoring North as he stalked and slithered toward the pile of limbs. “How do you like me now, Frost? You rejected my offer without so much as a thought, as though you had a choice. Well look where it's gotten you! Absolutely nowhere.” Pitch came to stand over Jack, eyes bright and expression glowing with smug satisfaction. “Moments at most and you’ll be mine regardless.”

The paralysis rooting North down shattered. He roared with all the pain in his lungs, lunging for Pitch with his blades. The rage was suffocating, dyed his brain as red as the blood in his eyes and North howled as he crossed blades with the shadow man once more.  
Pitch’s cackling was incessant, smug and malignant and it was driving North even more insane. Wrenching out of Pitch’s block, North pressed forward with his blades to rip at the thin man, cutting across him and startling the laughter right out of Pitch, who snarled. 

“WHY?!” North cried as he dodged the Boogeyman’s vengeful scythe when it swung for him.

“Why?! Because you cast him out!” Pitch pushed forward, his blade coming hard and fast with all the skill of a general of the Golden Age.  
North, tired from the drawn out fight, could barely react in time to defend himself. 

“He was given to you as a gift and you threw him out! And when I found him, suffering and alone in the depths of Antarctica because of what,” A cut across North's arm. “you’” Across North’s chest. “did, he rejected me!”  
North was thrown back into a tree by a wall of shadow. The redwood cracked and he slumped to the ground. Pitch stood breathing hard, gaze imperious and loathsome as he looked down his nose at North as though North were a particularly wretched bug.

“He rejected me,” Pitch stated again, softer. “After I'd offered him a place at my side. I saw myself in him. What he didn't realize was that he had no choice. After all, what goes better together than cold, and dark?”

Wheezing wetly, North coughed and when he spat, it was tinged red. Pushing himself to his feet, the warlock Cossack drew himself to his full height despite the pain that made him want to hunch, old and feeble.

“He never told us this.” Falling back against the tree for support, North found his eyes irrevocably drawn to the ‘he’ in question and they promptly began to burn with tears.

Wrenching his gaze away, North turned a glare instead to Pitch and growled. Not many a spirit could survive a headshot that traumatic but Jack was strong. Jack would pull through this, and avoid whatever brainwashing quality Pitch was so sure would take him over. North just had to believe that, and believe it with all his heart.

Otherwise-

“Suppose he did not feel you were worth mentioning.” North chuckled and barely had his swords up in time to cross them over Pitch’s scythe, blocking a downward attempt to eviscerate him.

Pitch’s expression was droll but it was fury that burned in his eyes, twitched in a muscle in his jaw. “And we shall see how wrong he was about that.”

North grunted, straining against the scythe’s edge as his arms began to shake. Certainly it had been wrong of them to split up, they should have listened to Jack.

A snowflake drifted lazily into North’s line of sight. 

Pitch smirked triumphantly. “He’s awake.”

A cool gust sighed through the clearing. Pitch lurched back, swaggered into the shadows with a toothy grin and luminescent Cheshire eyes.

Left to stumble forward, North caught his balance and looked up, brows clenched tightly.

Jack had disappeared, but had clearly not gone if the plummeting summer temperature was anything to go by. Snow as well, or something like it - bits of ice shimmering in the air as muggy summer became full fledged winter in seconds. There was a heaviness to the air, a tension and a scent not unlike ozone, and North stiffened as he felt the hairs on his neck and arms begin to rise because of all the atmospheric static.

“Jack…” North questioned the air with trepidation, eyes flickering about constantly. A mild breeze ruffled past him in answer.

At that instant a massive light split through the clearing with an ear-splitting crash, causing North to throw his arm over his eyes with a yell. He wasn't the only one - with the forest shadows cleared, Pitch and his remaining nightmares were left to scream in pain at their sudden forced reveal. The nightmares broke apart immediately into puffs of dust, scattered to the wind that was now blowing hard.

When North reopened his eyes, blinking past spots and tears, he immediately clapped gaze on Jack. Despite himself, the massive Bandit King felt a shiver go down his spine.

Jack stood across the clearing, his staff dangling by his fingertips. Black ichor and purple blood still stained his face and dripped a thick trail down his chin to his neck. The hole of Jack’s ruined eye socket gleamed with murky ice.  
There was nothing in his expression, North noticed with a chill. No twinkle of the delightful sprite’s typical self shone through. Instead, Jack stood straight and totally blank faced, only the faintest hint of malice rolling off him in a frosty non-visible aura.

North was beginning to think Pitch had made a big mistake. He glanced quickly at the man in question.

Pitch wasn't much harmed by the blast of light, standing unscathed. He did, however, look quite gobsmacked - jaw hanging open and eyes bulging in an expression of terror North had previously seen only directed at Sandy.

Was it irony that the fear-eater felt scared so acutely, so easily?

Pitch’s features warped into a snarl of false bravado as he snapped his fingers and pointed toward North. “Enough of this. Frost! Strike him down!”

North quirked his eyebrows and flicked his eyes back toward Jack, feeling much like the bystander.

He winced promptly as Jack’s head turned, slowly and jarringly enough that North’s ears could faintly hear small vertebrae creak, to look back at North. Restraining a shudder of dismay as he realized he could see through Jack’s head, North took a step back. It was somehow intimidating to be looked at by the wee sprite like this. Fighting Jack was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now. Wanted to do ever.  
Jack shifted his gaze to Pitch. His remaining eye narrowed.

The temperature plummeted so rapidly it felt the wind was knocked right out of North's chest and he grasped his coat with a wheeze, dropping to one knee.  
The oak trees surrounding them groaned, seemed to sway, and then exploded with a thunderous noise. The shrapnel of some approximate 20 trees hung in the air, dust and snow shimmering between. Through his clouded breath, North, spared by the shrapnel somehow, stared transfixed as they all quivered and turned their points toward Pitch.

“I don't think so.” Jack whispered.

Pitch cried out in furious denial only for his voice to be cut off when all that flying frozen shrapnel impaled him with extreme prejudice. Looking less like a figure and more like a bristling pincushion, the Boogeyman stumbled, wavered, and fell to the snowy forest floor. He stayed there as Jack, blood-dripping toes barely touching ground, floated toward him. North watched in trepidation as Jack approached Pitch, struggling to get his breath back even as he lurched to his feet and reached out a hand for the smaller Guardian.

“NO!”

Jack twitched a finger and the subzero wind lit up electrically. There was one final, lasting, ethereal scream as Pitch was struck by a raging torrent of electricity...and then nothing.

When North, dazzled yet again, reopened his eyes, Pitch and every last trace of him had disappeared.

“Not dead.” Jack, who North was quite startled to see was now in front of him like he’d always been there, spoke. “But reduced to something close. I left him to lick his wounds. I…”

Jack's voice grew wispy and his posture drooped. “I don't feel so good…”

“Jack!” Alarmed, North dropped his sabers and caught the sprite as he fell. Jack weighed next to nothing in his arms, very close to intangible, an awful feeling that was only exacerbated as North watched the ice sealing Jack’s head begin to melt in the reheated air.

Something close to a whimper crawled up North’s throat. He swallowed it down, squeezed shut his eyes, and gathered the small body close.

Too many things. There were too many things left unsaid and taken for granted. As he heard the tell tale crashing of underbrush, North opened his eyes onto the slim man he cradled. He lifted one hand, tentatively and shakely trailed a tender finger down one gore painted cheekbone. His hand tightened into a fist and he bowed his head, carefully resting it against a delicate collar bone, very near to bristling with pent up energy and emotion.  
North would rectify that, all of it, when Jack woke up.

“North! Jack!” Bunny bellowed, bursting into the clearing with Sandy hot on his heels. The former cussed softly at the state of them, though he and Sandy didn't look entirely fresh either. 

“We were waylaid by nightmares but they suddenly dropped off.” Bunny explained as he approached. “Crikey that looks bad…”

North lifted his head, grief and anger aging his typically youthful countenance severely. “Pitch staged events to get to Jack, it seems. Jack…”

Resting one large furry hand on North's shoulder, Bunny peered down into the face of their fallen brother in arms. A grimace twisted his muzzle. It wasn't a pleasant sight. 

He glanced about the clearing and shook his head at the devastation. “Well, explains why the nightmares ran off with their tails between their legs in any case.”

The pooka squeezed North's shoulder. “We'll get'im to the Warren, get'im healed up good as new. Here, lemme take’im.”

North nodded and gingerly deposited the precious cargo that was the Guardian of Joy into Bunny's arms, feeling as though his soul was being torn from him as he did. “Da, please go quickly. Sandy and I shall wait for Tooth, and then we will follow.”

Adjusting Jack carefully, Bunny nodded and stepped away. He thumped the ground with his foot and disappeared, the ground closing over the tops of his ears with a single dewy and out of season snowdrop.

With nothing left to hold, North folded into himself and clutched his eyes, senseless to Sandy’s approach and eventually, the golden man’s small hand petting his arm.

\-----------------------------

Awareness came to Jack in drips and drabs. Slowly, like the spring thaw, he became aware of things in steps. A feeling of secure warmth that held him fast, the smell of flowers and rich dirt, sweet grass, voices.

The lattermost inspired a struggle to regain full consciousness quicker. He needed to become awake, he didn’t know why. He just needed to.

Then, finally. How long it took, Jack couldn’t say. His mind was all sorts of muddled, as clear as a puddle of mud, but finally he came to.

Blinking slowly, Jack stared sightlessly for a moment before regaining sense enough to glance about himself. Everything felt sore and brittle, cracked and fragile, a sensation that was reinforced when he twitched his fingers and was greeted by a prickling sensation. His limbs needed to wake up too, Jack grimaced, and took in his surroundings with a little more awareness. 

He was ensconced in a bed of flowering vines which were a peculiar shade of green so dark it vied with purple, and glimmered faintly with blinking and different coloured lights.. Chest creaking rustily as he deeply inhaled, Jack wiggled to crane his head enough to see that a few small tendrils had snaked into the veinery of his arms like organic IVs.

The winter spirit blinked slowly as he pondered how odd that was, then settled back and turned his head to peer upwards at towering green mountains and sweet blue sky. That shade reminded him of something, Jack frowned, and drifted off thinking of what that must be.

Clarity came quicker from there, each brief snatch of wakefulness restoring him further. Peculiarly, each brief moment was spent alone with no sign of the voices who Jack realized now must have been the other Guardians. He was with it enough by now to recognize Bunny’s warren, albeit in an odd sector that he hadn’t seen before, and was impatient to see his friends.  
To see North.

Especially to see North.

He needed to know the bigger man was okay.

Please let him be okay.

Jack came to, finally, with a presence by his side. He shifted a little within the clutching green, breathed in the sweet scent of flowers nearby his face and tilted his head to look blearily at the form beside him. Bunny, Jack noted with relief, smiled down at him with an expression that could be almost considered tender.

“Ey there, Jackie.” Bunny spoke softly, and Jack hummed as he felt a wide paw gently caress through his hair. “‘Ow ya feelin there, mate?”

Jack tried to convince his mouth to make a word or two. The fruitless attempt must have looked pretty funny because Bunny snorted and gave his head a shake.

“Right. You’ll be needin this, I s’pose.” The ageless rabbit turned and bent over, coming back with a cup of something that Jack hoped desperately was water.

Close. Ice chips. 

“Slowly now…” Bunny eased one into his mouth and Jack let his gaze slip shut with relief as the piece of ice melted slowly, releasing water sweeter than honey into his mouth.

It took several before his mouth and throat were lubricated enough to make words with.

“...happened?” Jack questioned as he eyed his friend. Brother, even.

Bunny sighed and shook his head, ears drooping. “Pitch got the drop on us. On you, specifically...we shoulda listened to ya, Jack.”

“...others?”

“All fine, don’t ya worry about that. Ya just rest up, Jackie, you still got a lot of healin to do.”

Jack hummed in response and drifted promptly back to sleep, worn out by the short piece of interaction.

The next time he awoke, it was Tooth at his bedside. The soft hum of her wings and the gentle, constant chatter was what drew Jack to consciousness this time, and for a moment he blinked at the heartbreakingly blue sky before tilting his head to locate the bird woman. It didn’t take long to find her, surrounded as always by a troop of smaller fairies who she muttered to, voice as quick and sweet as a hummingbird’s wings.

Jack couldn’t help but smile. The glisten of his teeth drew eyes immediately and one of the small fairies squealed in delight while the others sighed dreamily, practically throwing herself at him. Chuckling softly, Jack tiredly freed one hand from the vinery and clasped the little girl’s tiny body.

“Hey there, Baby Tooth.”

“Jack!” The girl’s mother was at his bedside shortly (insomuch as a cocoon of vines and flowers could be called a bed), leaning over him with an expression that was both gleeful and concerned.

Jack beamed, feeling his lips crack. “Hey Tooth.”

“Oh, Jack,” Tooth reached out, paused, then gently clasped his shoulder. “I didn’t even get to see you-! But oh, you’re looking so much better now. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I got-well, you don’t need to worry about that right now. I’m just so happy you’re awake! We were really worried, you know, North especially and-well-”

“Tooth, Tooth, slow down!” Jack chuckled even though it felt like he was gargling glass as he did, reaching up to pat her hand. “Slow down.”

He smiled warmly, glad to see his sister. “I’m right here.”

Tooth blinked, once, then giggled and her entire body seemed to soften, relax. She nodded.

“And so am I.”

With Baby Tooth snuggled against his chest and Tooth’s presence a warm and comforting weight beside him, Jack fell back to sleep with a faint smile.

When next he awoke, it was Sandy, floating in the air and watching him with a preternatural stillness. Jack blinked. Sandy blinked, and Jack found himself feeling very relieved.  
He loved Sandy, he really did, but the guy could sure be creepy when he wanted to be.

“...I am awake, right?” Jack croaked, wondering if it was possible to feel pain in your dreams because talking had hurt a bit.

A big shiny and golden thumbs up, and Sandy nodded. Jack relaxed a little

“Oh. Good.”

Then they had a staring contest, gazing at the other unblinkingly and silently. Sandy inevitably won by being A) A star and therefore not needing to blink, and B) A giant cheat who doused Jack with a face full of dream sand when he inevitably got bored.

Sandy’s smiling face and wave followed Jack into his dreams, and they were good ones, as he settled into a warm and far more comfortable slumber than he had before.

Jack was eventually pulled out of those dreams, pleasant and warm and smelling faintly of woodsmoke, by an equally pleasant and warm and tinted of woodsmoke man next to him. North was speaking in a deep burry timber, from the sounds of it reading aloud a book of some sort. Jack’s lips curled into an easy smile as the other man broke off from a piece of dialogue to mutter about plot contrivances.

“Why would he not just say ‘Oh, am sorry, did not mean to intrude’? Instead, bah, makes up lie and finds self one way trip to dungeon!”

“You shoved a new recruit into a sack then tossed that sack through a magic portal, in effect kidnapping said new recruit. You have no right to complain about that, North.” Jack croaked, affection thrumming through him as he smiled tiredly up at the giant of a man seated next to him.

North startled and Jack immediately found himself pinned under the weight of wonderstruck eyes.

“Ah, Jack! You are awake!” The Cossack exclaimed in delight, seeming to come alive all at once before catching up to what Jack had said. North huffed, deflating and flushing a tad pinker as he adjusted the wide band of fabric across his belly. He was wearing all his gear, his silly furry hat and his big red coat that Jack had sometimes daydreamed about using as a blanket while he himself wore approximately nothing.  
“Was not me who did that, was yeti.”

“But it was your idea.” Jack poked, grin widening. It was such fun to tease him and watch the man's wonderful expressions. North emoted everything, Jack had learned, and did it so readily and easily. 

Dropping his pout, North chuckled and gave Jack a look that was so warm and fond that if he were standing, Jack’s knees would have gone all noodly. As it was, Jack’s stomach just bundled into a knot of butterflies and nerves.

“Da, that it was.” North reached out and scooped up Jack’s hand, clasping it between his own. “I am very glad you are awake, Jack.”

Jack’s breath quivered a little. He blinked.

North sighed and dropped his head a little, but didn’t let go of Jack’s hand. They almost burned, so hot were North's fingers as they clutched even tighter to Jack's hand. His touch was raspy with work and callouses, and Jack's hand was so small in comparison.

Jack stared down at them before looking up to find the man's handsome crow-feet eyes tearful even as North smiled down at him with an expression approaching heartbreak.  
It was warm though, that look, contrary to the tears suddenly leaking into the bristly fur of North's mustache. Jack jerked up in alarm, only to find himself halted by the thick vines he was still ensconsed in.

“North, what-”

“I nearly lost you there, Jack.” North spoke in a husky and quiet voice, his palm slowly caressing Jack's knuckles.

The touch, the voice, the look in North’s eyes, all of it was strangely intimate. Close, and personal. Jack wasn’t sure what to think. He knew what he wanted, but surely it couldn’t be what he hoped-

That line of thought was swiftly drawn to a close when North bowed his head over Jack’s hand, resting his forehead against their clasped fingers. Jack’s breath stuttered in his chest, his eyes growing wide and his face getting hot.

“I nearly lost you there, and I never would have been able to tell you- But it is of no matter now. Jack,” North raised his head, looking Jack dead in the eye. “I am in love with you.”

Jack’s brain short circuited.

All of his thoughts stilled, glassy and inert like the deep-winter ice on his lake, and his jaw dropped. He blinked at North, and the seconds dragged by. Somehow it didn’t grow awkward. North merely held Jack’s gaze, patient as Jack slowly recollected some semblance of brain power to do anything with.

“I-...you-...”Jack haltingly attempted to broach the subject and this time North smiled, his mustache quirking charmingly.

“Da. I am in love with you, Jack Frost. Have been for some time now.” The Cossack’s bushy brows drew close, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, and some self-deprecating wryness entered his eyes. “Was reluctant to approach you, as beautiful and young-seeming as you are. Far out of my league!”

North laughed, and then sobered, looking at Jack. “But can see now that was wrong decision. We almost lost you. I...would have never been able to tell you. I could not…”

The words were hard to articulate. Jack blinked, hard, this time to press back tears as he listened quietly. North took a great sigh, and continued, clutching Jack’s hand tighter. 

“I could never have forgiven myself for not confessing feelings to you, had the worst happened. Cannot stand thinking it.” For the first time, some nervousness entered North’s voice. “I...do not hold any expectations-”

Nope. 

Jack shifted their grips so he was clutching North’s hands in his, clutching at the man’s fingers even tighter than North had clutched his. He was sure his eyes shone with a feverish gaze, but he didn’t care, because- 

“I’ve loved you forever,” Jack blurted out because he didn’t want North to say it, to even think it, that Jack may not reciprocate his feelings. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you, hundreds of years ago. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. You are,” He floundered momentarily, searching North's face, pressing into his mind the lines of age in it, the well groomed beard, the gorgeous blue eyes. “You are...the most joyous, wonderful man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

The winter spirit smiled, eyes and grip softening. “Almost makes a guy glad to get shoved into a sack and tossed through a magic portal.”

North’s eyes were glowing with a soft starstruck wonder that made Jack giddy, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. Releasing the other man’s hands, Jack gripped the collar of North’s coat and dragged him down, clumsily pushing their lips together.

A second of startled grunting, of softening and realigning, and North’s hand found its way into Jack’s hair, stroking it back. Jack very nearly purred into the attention, finding much joy as he learned North’s lips. His mustache tickled, and up close the man smelt not just of woodsmoke but of sugar cookies and-

And home.

This felt like coming home. Held fast in vines, surrounded by flowers, kissing the man he loved for the first time.

They parted, but not very far. Jack looked into North’s eyes, and felt himself melt with a smile.

“I would love it,” Jack murmured, close enough that he was almost speaking into the other Guardian’s lips. “If you would be with me.”

North grinned. “300 years on Naughty List...but I think this is one present Santa can give you.”

Jack cackled, perhaps a little madly, and threw his arms around North’s huge shoulders to pull him in even closer until they were kissing again.

A little part of him, deep inside, sighed with relief and vanished. No longer was Jack Frost just an expression. No. Jack Frost was known, and seen, and loved.

\------------------------

“And that was how lil'ol Jack Frost bagged hottie mchotterson St. Nick.”

Jamie stared, then tilted his head, his brown hair sliding over his forehead. Jack just grinned.

“You know,” Jamie began, his voice remarkably flat while lifting up a cup of grape juice and sipping at it through a straw. He was in his computer chair, and swivelled lightly, shifting about with his socked toes “When I asked you what happened to your eye, I was not expecting an epic tale of romance and, ah...you killed Pitch?”

“No!” Jack exclaimed, and then paused and scratched his head. Finally he shrugged, looking at Jamie with something of a wry expression. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t remember very much of what happened, honestly. It’s a bit of a blur. I-...I hope not, though.”

And that it was. Between the head trauma and coming unglued in a way he’d never done before, Jack couldn’t remember much. Bunny had said, with a complicated look in his eyes, it was a miracle he’d been able to remember anything at all. Jack got the feeling that it was a bit more of a miracle that he was even alive in the first place. With that much brain outside it's original container, a weaker spirit would have died.

“I’ve...rarely unleashed that much power at one time. When I do, it sometimes gets...ugly. And it's hard to do at all in the first place,” Jack gestured widely, twisting his hands. "I've gotta be really...well."

Jamie grimaced then nodded, looking into his grape drink with the determination of a man avoiding looking at something else. Jack tilted his head down at the youth, then sighed and slipped off the desk he was sitting on, walking over and clasping a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Hey, are you...okay? With everything?”Jack asked, somewhat wary. 

“You almost died, Jack. That’s a bit much to take in.” Jamie’s smile was thin, pale. 

Jack gave his head a bit of a shake and dropped into a crouch so he could better see the young man’s face. “Well, that happens a lot. Part of the work I do. But, if anything, it teaches you to see the silver lining in things.”

The sprite jumped back, span, then gestured at his face with a wide grin. “For instance I got this awesome eye-patch now! Don’t you think I look badass?”

For all his advanced technology and medicine, there were some things Bunny just couldn't do and apparently regrowing an eye was one of them. The socket remained empty, stained black, and Jack had taken to covering it with an eyepatch. He was determined to get a collection going so he could change it to a different one every day of the month if he wanted to.

Jamie snorted, chortled and gave his head a shake, looking up at Jack. “You’re a bit too tiny to look badass, Jack, sorry.”

“Hey!” Jack scowled indignantly.

“I don’t make the rules, that’s just the way it is!” Jamie spread his arms in a shrug and then folded them after putting his drink down. His spinning about grew wider, a little more agitated perhaps. “But you’re dating Santa Clause now, huh?”

Jack closed his eyes, thinking to his partner who was just now beginning to gear up for the Christmas rush. He'd been out of it for most of the summer, but North was still devoted to spending as much time with Jack as he could, and Jack, who was getting busier as well since it was early October now, was just as determined to make time for North.

“He’s just…” Jack mused aloud as he thought of North, running his hand down the back of his neck as he smiled besottedly at the carpet. “He’s just the sweetest guy, Jimmie-Jams. Fun loving, excited for everything, great with the kids...a bit oblivious, and he’s hard headed, and can be downright boorish sometimes, but he just gets me, in a way that nobody else does.”

Jack’s expression must have looked particularly love-sick because Jamie looked amused. He'd stopped spinning, had folded his arms across the back of the computer chair he was sitting on. There was nothing complicated in his face, nothing that made Jack want to be nervous or wary of a disapproving FIrst Believer.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Jamie smiled, sincerity shining in his soft brown eyes, and Jack beamed with a nod.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope y'all enjoyed reading that! There might be an epilogue, because I want to write a dance scene buuuuuut I also want to get this published, haha. Impatient!
> 
> Life update for those who are interested. I've since completed school and....sort of have a job. I also had to have surgery to get my gallbladder removed because that was causing me a ton of grief, actually had that earlier this month. And then I had to move! I dunno, I'm feeling rather lost in life right now...so all writing has been hard to get out. This sucker has been in the works for a year now, for example. Kinda funny cus it's not even that long, but I was often too stressed to write.


End file.
